


Sir Juno of the Second Citadel

by Ernmark (M_Moonshade)



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Juno is a knight, M/M, Peter is a kumiho, Second Citadel AU, autocorrect suggested "Peter is a little shit" which is also accurate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 01:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16777069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Moonshade/pseuds/Ernmark
Summary: As a Knight of the Queen, Sir Juno knows to kill a monster on sight.If only this one wasn't so attractive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was heavily inspired by Mikaela Buckley's inktober drawing involving these two in this particular scenario

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“I’m doing quite a lot of things, little knight. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“You think I haven’t been briefed about you monsters with your manipulation magic? I’m not that easy to con, monster. If you think you can stop me just by making yourself look attractive, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Is that so?” He just laughs, his tails flicking playfully behind him. Juno is entirely too aware that it’s really hard to look at those tails without looking elsewhere on his lower anatomy. He may be a kumiho, but he’s got one hell of a fine ass… which is exactly what he wants Juno to think. 

“You think messing with my head is gonna make me let you go, but it’s just pissing me off. Now stop it before I get real ugly.”

“You really don’t understand manipulation magic, do you?” The monster just laughs. It’s a warm, bubbling laugh that Juno could listen to forever. Another trick, of course. “I could tell you a thousand lies, and you wouldn’t believe a single one of them. I’m sure you might entertain the thought for a moment, but it would be just another passing fancy. No.” He draws the word out, and draws Juno in. “In order for the magic to take root, it must first be something that you already believe.” 

“You’re lying,” Juno mutters.

“If you don’t believe me, then it’s not very good manipulation, is it?” He laughs again, leaning in. His arms cage Juno in on either side, his long sleeves blocking the world from view. It’s a private moment, unbearably intimate. 

It’s the manipulation, he tells himself like a mantra. The manipulation. This is just the monster’s magic playing tricks on him.

He glances at the knife still clutched in his hand. Its polished surface showed the kumiho for what he really was before. Why isn’t it showing him its true form? Why does that monster’s reflection still look so breathtakingly beautiful? Maybe he isn’t doing it right. Maybe a polished blade isn’t good enough– maybe it needs to be an actual mirror to work right. 

Or maybe the monster really is that beautiful.

“No, little knight,” the kumiho murmurs. His face is a breath away from Juno’s. “You aren’t going to stab me.”

“You seem awfully confident about that.”

God, that laugh again. This close, Juno can see the fangs hanging in the monster’s open mouth, glinting in an ethereal light. What would it be like to kiss someone with such sharp teeth? His face heats at the thought.

“You’re not going to stab me because it would end badly for you. There are few things quite as unpredictable as foxfire. I doubt you would survive.” 

Fire? Juno glances up. A ball of bright blue flame is caught in the monster’s fingertips, just inches from Juno’s face. 

Apparently that heat wasn’t just from his blush. Well. Good to know. 

“I might not survive, but I could take you down with me,” Juno growls. 

“Rather impractical, don’t you think?” The kumiho smolders at him over his spectacles. “Neither of us will be good for much if we’re both dead. It’s quite the impasse.” 

Juno steels himself. “I’m not afraid to die for my Queen.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that you’re willing. But I imagine you have better things to do with your time than dying here. I certainly do. In fact…” He makes a show of looking Juno up and down, but he’s pressed so close that he probably doesn’t get much of a view. 

This time Juno’s sure that it’s the fire making his face feel all hot.

“My eyes are up here,” he mutters. 

Obediently the fox looks him in the eyes, his own alight with glee. “You might be able to help me with a problem of mine.”

“Why the hell do you think I’d help you?”

“Because there are innocent lives at stake, of course. Innocent _human_ lives. And isn’t it your solemn duty to protect your people?” 

Juno’s being manipulated. He knows it. But he also knows that nobody else is going to listen to this monster, and if lives are really at stake, he has to help them.

“I’m listening.” 


	2. Chapter 2

The kumiho pulls his hand away. His palm is stained with blood, as are the shredded robes currently sticking to the wound. Juno feels bile rise up in his throat. That’s a lot of blood. He can’t see the wound clearly from here, but in his mind’s eye he’s already picturing how deep it goes, how intense the gore…

He feels sick.

“Just sit still,” he says quickly. “I’ll take care of you. We’ll get you patched up, and you’ll be fine.”

But that’s a lie and he knows it. In the hot, humid summer, even a small wound can get infected fast– and there’s nothing small about the three gashes on his abdomen. There’s an herbalist back at the edge of the Citadel who works minor miracles when it comes to staving off infections, but it’ll take days to get to her– and even if they could get to her before things got real ugly, there’s no way she’d use her craft to save a monster. 

He pulls at the fox’s robes, desperately churning through any information he’s gleaned after years of getting his own wounds patched up. Boil the water, then wash, then wrap, then–

The fox gives a strained chuckle. “If you were that eager to get me out of my clothes, you only had to ask.”

“Quit kidding around,” Juno snaps, but he doesn’t mean it. If the fox is still able to joke, then maybe that means he’s going to be okay. Oh please let him be okay. “This is serious.”

“For you, maybe.” He dons a charming grin, but he looks like he’s in pain. “I’ve shrugged off worse injuries, I assure you.” 

“You can do that?” Juno asks, maybe a little too eager. Because he doesn’t care. He shouldn’t care. 

“I can do quite a lot of things. I do have more than a few tricks up my sleeve. Just give me a few hours to get my strength back. That fight took quite a bit out of me.” 

“A few hours?” In this heat, with marshy water in all directions? There’s no way it won’t be infected by then. But he can’t voice his worry. “That’s too much time. We have a case to solve, remember?”

“I’m afraid I can only work so quickly on my own, little knight. But if you’re in such a hurry, you could always speed the process along.” The look of sly amusement on his face should be enough to tip off Juno that this is a bad idea, but right now all he can think about is the wound and the oncoming fever and a slow and painful death, and it’s making his mind spin.

“Sure, whatever makes this move faster. What do you need?” 

“Just a little donation.” The fox grins and reaches into one of the pockets of his robes, coming out with a little white marble held between his claws. “I can skim away a bit of your life force and heal these wounds fairly quickly. With your permission, of course.”

“My what?” Juno can’t help sounding a little scandalized, but the fox is undeterred.

“I could take part of your liver instead.” 

Juno grimaces. “Have you seen the way I drink? Trust me, you don’t want it.” But he’s got a case to solve and he can’t do that if his biggest lead is dying of a fever– or if he’s busy feeling guilty about getting the fox killed. “Okay, how does that thing work? Do I have to bleed on it or something?”

“Not at all,” the kumiho says. “Just let it sit in your mouth a few moments, really. It’s perfectly painless.” 

This could be a trick. It could be poisoned, or it could drain him dry. This is a monster he’s dealing with, after all. 

But after everything that’s happened, he has reason to trust this monster. 

“Okay,” he says finally, and reaches for it. But before he can grab the little white marble, the fox pops it into his own mouth. “Hey!”

“There’s an order to these things, Juno,” the fox says, disturbingly clearly for having something of that size on his mouth. It must be on his tongue, too– there’s no bulge in his cheeks to show where it’s gone. “Come here.” 

On any other day, with any other person, Juno would be acting a brat and demanding to know if he really has to do it this way, but he can’t make himself form the words. 

He leans in, his gaze darting between the fox’s eyes like he can find some answers there. He only sees that smile.

This might be a trick. 

The fox closes the distance between them with a sweet, chaste kiss. Before Juno can think about how those lips have no business being so soft, he feels the smoothness of the marble pushed gently into his mouth. 

He chose to trust the fox, so he accepts it. 

It’s hard and heavy– much heavier than something that small should be, and it weighs on his tongue and keeps him still. It hasn’t been in the fox’s mouth for all that long, but it’s warmer than Juno would have expected, like hot tea on a cold morning, like broth when he’s sick in bed. 

He feels a little like that now– drowsy and slow, but wrapped up in comfort. The world seems to have faded away. One of the kumiho’s hands is twined with his, the long claws resting harmlessly against his knuckles. The other hand is curled around Juno’s neck, pulling him closer. Those silky lips encourage his to open again, and he gladly obeys. 

A deft tongue slips inside him, flicking affectionately at his teeth before it slides against his tongue. Even if he could hold back his moan, he doesn’t want to. He wants to be closer to this man. He wants this kiss to last the rest of his life. 

And just like that, it’s over. The kumiho pulls away, looking pleased. The marble is gone, and in its absence Juno feels unbearably cold and sharp and untethered. He chases the fox’s mouth, desperate to get some of that feeling back, but he’s stopped by a clawed finger pressed to his lips.

“Much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, little knight, I’ll have to decline. I wouldn’t want to hurt you, after all.” He takes Juno’s hand and guides it to his chest. “What you gave me was more than enough.”

Juno’s hand slides against the bare skin there, taking it as an invitation. He just needs to be careful of the wound–

But there _is_ no wound. He can feel the ragged edges of the fox’s robs, but the skin underneath is unbroken and whole. There’s not even any blood.

Juno pulls back. “You’re–” He clears his throat. “Feeling better, then?”

“Much better, thank you.”

Juno can’t help but follow the marble as it passes from the fox’s lips to his claws and then disappears into one of those endless pockets. 

“And how are you feeling, little knight? Not too drained, I hope?” 

If he’s being honest with himself, Juno feels tired, but now that the kiss is over, it’s less of a pleasant drowsiness and more a bone-deep exhaustion. But he’s well-practiced at working while tired. 

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “If you’re good to go, we need to head out. We’ve got a case to solve.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Wikipedia:
> 
> The most distinctive feature that separates the kumiho from its two counterparts (kitsune and huli jing) is the existence of a ‘yeowu guseul’ (여우구슬, literally meaning fox marble/bead) which is said to consist of knowledge. According to Korean mythology, the yowu guseul provides power to the kumiho and knowledge (and intelligence) to people if they can steal and swallow one. The kumiho can absorb humans’ energy with it. The method of absorbing energy with the “yeowu guseul” resembles a “deep kiss” (i.e. a kiss using tongue). The kumiho sends the yeowu guseul into people’s mouths and then retake it with their tongues. If that person swallows the yeowu guseul, however, and then observes “sky, land, and people”, each observation gives the observer preternatural knowledge.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahotchocolatenerd asked:
> 
> Hi, you were amazing in the QnA! Congrats! Also I hope you get better soon and your flu goes away! When you're better I was wondering if you would be interested in continuing the Juno and Nureyev Second Citadel AU fic? Maybe diving deeper into the case they're solving or seeing how giving up some of his life force affects Juno long term or his reaction to giving away some of his life once it really sinks in. Whatever you do just so you know your writing is amazing and your meta fascinating!!!!!!

“Come now, little knight, don’t tell me you’re tired already.” Saints, does the kumiho have to be so damn chipper? He’s not leading the way so much as he is going ahead on his own, and with every passing moment, Juno is falling further behind. 

And maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe he should head back to the Citadel, report what he knows to the Queen, and let her put together a team to take this thing down. 

That would be the smart thing to do. 

But if the Queen is going to take this kind of tip seriously, then he’ll have to tell her where he got it. And then he’ll have to explain why he thought a monster was worthy of enough trust to listen to. And then he’ll have to explain why he suddenly decided to change his mind about that and call for backup. 

And that would mean admitting to what he’s done.

He gave up a part of his life force to save a monster. 

And he did it knowingly, _willingly_. He can’t even pretend that he was tricked into it, or that it was stolen from him.

He can’t pretend that kiss was stolen, either. 

Saints, he _kissed_ a _monster_. 

What was he _thinking?_

“Juno?”

When Juno looks up, the fox is mere inches away from him. His ears are perked and alert, his eyes wide with concern. 

“Juno, you delicate flower, I didn’t take too much, did I?” He reaches out, and every part of Juno wants to scramble away, but that would imply that he’s either frightened or flustered, and he’s _neither_ , dammit, so he stays put. A clawed hand rests on his forehead. “You don’t seem clammy, at least. How are you feeling?” 

“I don’t know, how _should_ I be feeling?” Juno swipes the fox’s hand away from his face and starts marching again. “What exactly did you do to me, anyway?” 

The fox adjusts his spectacles, bemused. “I thought I was fairly clear in that regard.”

“Yeah, you said you were taking part of my life away. What exactly does that mean? What’s going to happen to me?” He makes sure he sounds more pissed than worried. He’s a knight of the Crown, after all, and keeping the fox alive means he’ll be able to protect the people of the Citadel. But he still has a right to know, dammit.

“Is that what has you worried?” The fox at least has the decency to cover his mouth when he laughs. “Sensitive little thing, aren’t you? No need to worry, I haven’t taken anything from you that you won’t recover.”

“You sure about that?” Juno growls.

“You’ll be good as new in a few days, and then you’ll be back to solving mysteries and vanquishing villains and saving innocent people from the _big mean world_.” 

“And if you took too much?”

“Much the same, really. I imagine you’d be a bit anemic for a while– a little weak, a bit dizzy, prone perhaps to swooning.” His lips quirk into a smile. 

“You think this is funny?“

“Not at all, little knight, not at all.” Which would be a whole lot easier to believe if he weren’t grinning like that. “Much as I understand your concern, I assure you, I would allow no harm to come to you. You’re far too important to me.”

Juno’s boot hits a root, and he stumbles. He catches himself before he falls, but his insides feel like they’re still plunging forward. “What?” 

“This plan won’t work without you, after all. And I have too much invested to let it fail.” 

Right. Of course. What else would he mean?

“About this plan of yours,” Juno says. “Do you feel like letting me in on it anytime soon?” 

“As a matter of fact, I don’t.”

“What?”

The fox’s smile turns tight and grim. “I’ve already told you what I can.”

“You haven’t told me anything! You barely told me what we’re dealing with, now what you’re planning to do about it.” 

“That’s because I can’t.” The fox steps close, lowering his voice. His tails flick in agitation. “Consider what we’re dealing with, Juno.” 

What they’re dealing with is an abomination– a primordial sky demon, a shapeless storm with a thousand eyes– and it’s heading toward the Citadel. Evacuating would be pointless; according to the fox, there’s nothing the demon can’t see, nothing it doesn’t know. There’s no place they could go that it won’t find them.

“The thing can read lips,” Juno says, realization finally dawning on him. “If you tell me your plan, then it’ll know, too.”

“Precisely.” 

“You know, you could have said something.”

“I don’t see why,” the fox says. “You seem to have put it together fairly well on your own.”

A part of him is sure this is all an elaborate trap, but there’s a limit for how elaborate these things can be, even for a monster. Sure, the fox could have hired another monster to attack them, but what would that accomplish? If he wanted to kill Juno, he could have done that hours ago.

“So how am I supposed to help you if I can’t know the plan?” Juno asks. “I’m not exactly gonna be a lot of help this way.”

“On the contrary,” the fox says. “You’ve been quite helpful already. We can be quite a team, Juno. But I’m going to need you to trust me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was a little torn about whether to make Peter a kitsune (because I know more about the Japanese variation) or a kumiho (because Mikaela draws Peter as Korean). 
> 
> I went with the latter.


End file.
